Friday, 22 June 2007

Journey back to reality

Mission accomplished its time for that slog across the eternal city in time for my evening Easyjet departure. Not as ‘easy’ as it sounds. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced really bad London congestion at rush hour, well multiply that by a factor of ten and then you may be getting ‘warm’. However, I’ll give the coach driver his due, he cut a swath through the evening’s traffic like a gladiator’s sword through a, well, er… another gladiator. Italian drivers, put the British to shame. Whereas, the British are largely content to sit in tailback after tailback on a nightly basis, Italians will make a concerted effort to actually get through the queue. Italian males are probably eager to get home to their busty Sophia Loren look-alike wives, and table spread with delicious home cooked fare. ‘Brit’ males on the other hand ‘look forward’ to an empty house (she’s still at work helping pay for that second mortgage), and a boil-in-the-bag languishing in the freezer’s bottom drawer. We may have to deal with ‘Mamma’ and her over-sexed mates, but bring on the ‘Mediterranean diet’ any day of the week.

Finally, with minutes to spare, I arrive at the airport, grateful that I left Francesca and kids ‘tucked up’ in the comfort of their second home. It had been decided weeks earlier that Francesca should have a decent time in Rome to ‘recharge her batteries’. On the other hand I had work commitments, and two weeks off was more than enough. God only knows how the mean streets of Chiswick must have deteriorated without me.

Two hours later I’m touching down in Stanstead. I had no idea of the true journey that lay ahead.

3 comments:

Ed said...

Hi Mate,
Blog's going well, keep up the good work.
Quick question. What is the best way to find friends of a dead man, a man (a lad really) who died 21 years ago?
His sister wants to have some sort of remembrance get together.
I thought you being a detective, well you might be able to give me some pointers.

The bastard child of Gene Hunt said...

First off, you're gonna have problems with official organisations such as schools, interest groups, cadets and other youth organisations due to the Data Protection Act, besides they probably wouldn't remember him, turn over of staff and all.
You could do a mini canvass in the street he was living in when he died (and adjacent streets), and/or a picture poster in the pub(s) he used to frequent. People are creatures of habit, especially when it comes to pubs. However, with all the 'luxery appartments' that are popping up all over the place chances are the pubs been consigned to rubble and memories.
Lets not forget the solicitors favourite; the local paper. You would be surprised how many people read the notices 2/3's of the way through in the Globe. For max impact you are going to need that photo though. Consider Friends Reunited and cut 'n' paste selection from a class 'shoot'. But what am I saying I'm talking as if the glass is completly empty when it's 1/2 full, I'm sure his sister's got photos.
Which brings me to the digital media - Friends Reunited. Put a notice up on his class year plus and minus 1 year.
Finally, consider the utilization of local radio Merseyside. Worked in attracting you-know-who from under his stone, which got him duley nicked for his troubles. The long arm of the Met eh?
Anyway, I digress, A lot of this is going to come down to word of mouth as some of the friends would have moved away, bit like you, me and Brian the biker dodger. So you better start making progress now and get on with it.
Hope this was of assistance. Your police Force thanks you. Oh, its not your Force!!! In that case....

Ed said...

Cheers pal. I'll have a chat with his sister and see if I can get a picture, one as close to the time of the accident as possible, find out what pubs he used to go to(I think he may have been under age, but on the other hand he was a big lad and could have passed for an older bloke). Then it'll be on to friends reunited.